


Episode 3 - A Stratagem in the Shadows - Part 1

by kkthedoctor



Series: Doctor Who - The Alternative Doctor [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clones, Gen, Whoniverse | Doctor Who Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-20 06:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20223073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kkthedoctor/pseuds/kkthedoctor
Summary: On the farthest reaches of the Frontier in space, a seemingly ordinary human training outpost hides mysterious secrets.Schemes have been drawn in the shadows, and here the pawns are being put into place.The Doctor is one step behind, chasing mysterious voices and hidden trapdoors, and maybe an unexpected new friend is the only one who can help him solve it all in time...





	Episode 3 - A Stratagem in the Shadows - Part 1

Training as a cadet was a difficult and varied experience, it threw a lot of challenges. But one thing which was always clear, every since Wilkins had arrived on this moon, was that the threats weren't real. This was safe territory when they would prepare for the real danger. And yet here he and the others were, hunting through the dense foliage for an unknown hostile. All of a sudden the fight had come to them, and it was making all of their breaths quiver.

The alarm had tripped 10 minutes ago, energy fluctuations on the training ground, followed by an unknown alien life form detection. Command had been quick to scramble them to find it, and he could tell that even they were shocked by this development. Everyone had been assured no incursion could ever happen here, they were remote and safe during these formative months. Supposedly.

A rustle of activity up ahead. Wilkins waved the hand signals to the others and raised his weapon as he stepped a soft step forward towards the sound. His heat was pounding, he could hear the blood swishing around in his ear. Imagine the sort of threat which could get past the defences of this base, he pondered. And then he swatted the thought out of his brain and charged forward into the clearing straight ahead of him, weapon raised.

"Stop right there. Turn slowly and raise your hands."

To his surprise, the alien did so with no hesitation or fear.

"This is a secure facility, your presence on this moon is unauthorised. Identify."

He was trying to sound assured and intimidating, but truly he could tell there was a quiver in his voice. Although that seemed silly when the alien stepped into the light and raised his hands with no argument, because it seemed fairly apparent that he was no threat at all to an armed squad. A tall man, with a wild mop of dark hair, dressed in deep blue tartan trousers, with a matching waistcoat and an open collared shirt. He had a coat which swayed around his knees, and an earnest smile on his face. Hardly the stuff of nightmares.

"Apologies for the alarm. Think I've gone and gotten myself lost again. These moons, I always get them mixed up!"

"I have to insist you identify."

There seemed to be a moment of hesitation, a slight twicth to the alien's facial expression as if he was calculating something. He seemed to move for a moment, but then made a point of moving his hand back up to a raised position.

"Left hand coat pocket." He gestured towards it. "You can take it out, you don't have to worry about me pulling any weapons. I'm no threat, I promise. Just a traveller."

Wilkins nodded to Duncan, who made a gruff stride towards the stranger, and plunged a gloved hand into the pocket of his grey overcoat.

"What's he looking for? No funny business."

"Leather wallet. About 15cm across. Slightly battered, seen better days."

Duncan nodded as he grasped and pulled out a small ID wallet matching the description, and flipped it open to inspect it. His eyebrows raised, and he seemed to want to distance himself from the stranger. He shuffled over and handed it to Wilkins.

Inside was an official Earth representative identification slip, countersigned by the Madam President herself. It identified this man as a Doctor John Smith, a health and safety high commissioner for the United Armed Forces.

"My apologies, Doctor Smith. I was not told you would be coming. We will have to take you to the command centre." He held out the wallet for Smith to retrieve, and he took a long stride forward with a smile.

"I'm sure that won't be a problem. You just lead the way. Oh, and do feel free to just call me the Doctor, by the way!"

And with that, this man who had been at gunpoint mere seconds before was plunging his hands into his pockets with an endearing smile and beckoning the squad to lead the way back through the jungle.

**

The Doctor always enjoyed the company of human beings, and this squad was no different. In the past few minutes walking through the jungle, he had managed to melt away their uncertainty about him and gotten them chatting. Duncan, Graves, Jameson, Peterson and Wilkins. Wilkins held rank over the others, but seemed to be a fair leader, not taken up with any bluster or arrogance. He was a grounded sort of man, with a kind heart simmering under the attempted cold military confidence he was trying to project. 

"So how did you all end up out here on the furthest reaches of the Frontier? On this tiny moon closer to Draconian space than home?"

"The idea is we can carry out training well out of the way of regular military activity, no distractions. The nebula keeps us hidden. It's a compressed training program, to get us battle ready in months instead of years."

The Doctor couldn't help but be intrigued, he knew it was roughly 2530, when tensions between the Draconians and Earth were high, but preparing troops for war didn't seem right for this era of history. He had to choose his questions carefully though, in this role the psychic paper had cast him into.

"Well let's hope you don't need it, eh."

"The command signal tells us to always be ready, we just do as we're told. It's the reason I signed up, because if we ever need to make that move to protect the Frontier, they need as many men as possible!"

"You're quite the recruitment commercial, Wilkins." 

The Doctor's brow furrowed slightly. In a strange way these men didn't seem like the right fit for a rapid training fighting force.

His thought was interrupted by the gleam of a glass panelled building up ahead - the command centre. He was led inside, past the sentries, and through clinical, bright corridors. The place felt huge, but seemed strangely empty. Wilkins, almost sensing the thought percolating in his mind, settled it by explaining how only the newest recruits remained in the command centre, the more experienced units were out on the training grounds, carrying out the final training packages.

In the command room, lit by banks of surveillance screens and databanks, they were greeted by a stiff, moustached officer by the name of Henderson. He acted a lot older than the recruits who had led the Doctor through the jungle, but seemed to carry no lines on his face. His age was portrayed by his body language, and the gravelly tone to his voice.

"Well, Doctor, I of course extend the warmest of welcomes to you, but I must say your visit was not announced. This is very irregular, I will have to check it with the command signal."

Ah, that would be a problem.

"Well of course it wasn't announced, always a surprise, me! Otherwise it wouldn't be a very good inspection would it? I'm given free reign to drop in on bases as and when I see fit."

"I suppose it is true. Please do take a seat for a moment. And I'll assign Wilkins and his team as your escorts during your visit."

"Perfect, me and Wilkins will make quite the safety inspection team, eh Wilkins?"

The Doctor's awkward charm was thankfully not lost on his new friend, who gave him a cheeky smile in response as they both sat down at a small table at the back of the command deck. There were maps of the training grounds laid out in front of them, showing sectors of jungle, desert, city, all terrains arranged inside the base's exclusion perimeter fence.

"What is the regime for this training program then Wilkins? Because you seem to have a lot to do in the space of a few months."

"It's the application of skills. We've got the base skills, we've had the lectures and training implants, but this is about doing it in the correct environments, gaining experience in the field."

"You already had the skills, and yet you're here to develop the skills. Hmm."

"They need to be fully integrated before they can be deployed, Doctor. Or else they will struggle to apply simulated scenarios to real events."

Henderson sat down next to the Doctor, and placed a holographic projector down onto the table, ready for the conference with whatever command he was deferring to. He poured himself a glass of water, and took a sip as he turned to say something to the Doctor.

But then something strange happened.

An intangible change in the atmosphere of the room. It felt like there was a high pitched sound piercing the air, inaudible but tangible, which caused all the people on the room to tense up. Their faces lost all expression, they sat up straight and alert, and took slow, deep breaths. The Doctor leapt from his seat.

"Wilkins?? Can you hear me??" 

He clicked his fingers in front of his unblinking eyes, but there was no response. Nor from Duncan. Nor Henderson. Nor Graves. Or Jameson. Or Peterson. Then a speaker somewhere in the room crackled into life, sputtering out a broken, sharp voice which growled its sentences out in harsh bursts.

"COMMAND OVERRIDE ACTIVE. ROGUE ELEMENT LOOSE IN THE FACILITY. CONTAIN. TRAINING GROUNDS MUST NOT BE COMPROMISED. CONTAIN AND DESTROY ROGUE ELEMENT."

The Doctor swallowed deeply as the speaker shut off, and waited for the men to move against him. But they all stood up in unison, and marched out of the room, their boots echoing further and further away down the corridor. They hadn't even looked at him after that signal had activated. What had happened to them? And what was this rogue element if not him?

He quickly sped over to the now abandoned computer consoles, the soft buzz of the sonic screwdriver unlocked them and his fingers danced over the keyboards. He checked the security systems, and the logs, but there was nothing, just standard training plans. Although he suddenly noticed there were no personnel files. The troops were recorded by location and tag number, but there was no in depth information on them, or when they arrived by shuttle. Strange.

The Doctor flung open the service panel under the communications hub. Maybe he could find where the transmission had routed from? But he only found more questions. The unit was empty. There was no transmitter nor receiver inside the unit. Earth would never be contactable with this equipment, it was just a screen and a computer interface.

He pressed the sonic's emitter against the screen and activated it. The purple emitter made images dance across it, until it settled on an image of a human general, decked in military gear, it flickered and danced and he would move his mouth to speak but no sound would come out. A fake hologram. The Doctor was sure. Whoever was giving orders to this base was only masquerading as a human, there was no actual command from Earth here... 

Everyone here obviously believed they were really soldiers being trained by Earth forces, or else there wouldn't be a need for the hologram. And then there was a mind control that could he activated for emergencies? The Doctor couldn't quite piece it together. But he realised his priority was finding out who this rogue element was and to save them from Wilkins and his men. The command had ordered them to contain and destroy, maybe so that the brainwashed troops out on the training grounds wouldn't be disturbed? But why would that he an issue if there was mind control in place? No clue. His mind was buzzing with the possibilities.

He was wary of his footsteps as he eased towards the door, not sure how long he would go unnoticed by whatever was in control here. His boots thudded softly on the ceramic floor, step after step, until... An empty echo beneath his left foot. He knelt down and placed a palm against that section of floor, noticing a hairline seam about a meter across in a square shape. Trapdoor, almost certainly.

It openly slowly and ominously when activated, with an accompanying hydraulic hiss as metal arms shifted it out of the way, revealing the dim lighting of a functional metal corridor beneath. Dark and dank, bathed in orange light. This wasn't like the base above, it was wrought in rough metal, with rivets holding the sloping walls together. The Doctor turned sharply on his heels as he surveyed which direction to follow. The shadows to his right seemed to conceal a low mechanical hum, a good direction to turn.

No matter how hard he tried, his life always seemed to lead back to intrigues in shadowy corridors, the Doctor mused. He liked it this way though.

As he approached one of the doors, the hum felt stronger. A rhythmic pulse which the Doctor could feel through the floor, enticing him forwards. The door wasn't even locked, it just slid aside with a whirr, bathing his face in a dancing blue light. The light was cast by a series of tanks, tubes running from ceiling to floor and interspersed with pipes and sensors and readouts. The liquid in them was murky but bright, and contained writhing shapes inside.

A hand grappled about in the Doctor's coat pocket, pushing things aside until he pulled out a small eyeglass and held it in place to his left eye with a furrowed brow. He leaned in close to a tank, trying to ignore the bubbling chaos of the liquid and discern what was inside. It didn't take long. A few second later the turbulence in the tube threw the human man inside forward, revealing his limp form hanging in the liquid. A mask clasped itself to his face, and tubes were anchored into his spine.

The Doctor recoiled for a moment, making eye contact with the man's lifeless eyes. He vanished again into the murk, so the Doctor moved onto the next one. A glimpse at another person. And in the next another. And another. Dozens, if not hundreds of tubes. All containing live human subjects stretching in all directions. The readings on the sensors confirmed it, they were alive, but held in a state of unconsciousness.

Towards the back of the room the Doctor noticed a change. The shapes in the tubes were smaller, early teenagers at the oldest. And the next row mere children. And the next tiny embryonic clusters embedded with wires.

"Force grown clones. What in the universe is someone doing growing force grown clones??"

The Doctor heard a gasp as the words escaped his lips, and scanned around in the dark for the source. A few tanks over was a shape cowering in the dark. Shuffling slightly, or was it shaking? He could hear quivering breaths, and felt an anticipated fear radiating through the air.

"Hello. Are you alright over there? I can help. I'm the Doctor."

No response, but the Doctor was edging closer.

"I don't know what's happening here, but I promise you I can help. You have no need to be afraid."

He reached the shadow, and started to make out the figure within it as it shifted slightly to catch the light. A human girl, cowering naked and staring back at him with wide, terrified eyes, like an owl caught in the midnight moonlight. Wild, curly dark hair hung messily over her softly featured face, but it was tight in a tense, immobile grimace.

The Doctor made direct eye contact with her eyes, dark pools of deep hazel, and put on a reassuring half smile.

"I ran."

"That's okay. What did you run from?"

"Bright lights. They were in my head."

Sounded like an information exchange. Was it how they programmed the clones? The Doctor fished the sonic from his coat pocket and then took off the coat and draped it over the girl's shoulders. She pulled it close to her, and slowly stood up straight.

"Do you know who you are? Do you have a name?"

The Doctor figured that Wilkins' story of wanting to sign up, that he seemed to truly believe, had been some sort of back story imprinted onto him. Had this girl had hers yet, or were her only memories of the tanks around them?

"Only the code. They were to give me a real one. I ran."

He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she buttoned the coat, and she then pulled the sleeve to show a tattooed tag on her wrist reading 'Alpha-99A'.

"What else do you remember?"

"Science. Technology. Flooding my brain. Before that, only water. I think... I think I was in here."

The Doctor's understanding was growing. The clones were obviously taken from the tanks, given basic knowledge packages, and then a fictional identity and backstory. Ready to be sent for training upstairs.

It was the why that worried him.

"I will get you out of here safe, Alpha. I promise."

Her reaction wasn't a smile, but the hardness of her expression softened a little. They began to walk through the tanks, but stopped in their tracks when they heard the whirr of the door and the sound of boots on the floor. They both ducked behind the nearest tank, peeking around to see Wilkins pacing the far end of the chamber with a wide, staring gaze.

"He is in the trance."

There was a shudder in her voice at the word.

"The trance?"

"They switch you off. You can think only the signal."

Single thought stream mind control. Outlawed on every civilised world, it was obscene. Slavery in one's own mind. The Doctor was appalled.

"We need another way out of here. Can you remember where you came through?"

She paused for a moment, puzzled. But the Doctor could see the thought knitting together, clarity starting to come through in her fledging brain.

"I ran from the mind processing place. From this direction."

She led the Doctor through the maze of tanks with slow, careful steps. Her bare feet made no noise on the floor, making the Doctor painfully aware of the thud of his boots. Thankfully it didn't take them long to reach the other exit concealed in the shadows, and they slipped through the door before Wilkins had turned his search in their direction.

"This is the place."

It was a circular room, with beds arranged in a circle around a console cluttered with wires and controls. Each bed had spindly machinery hanging above the head end, like tentacles trying to probe down into the brain of the subject. Interestingly, the beds were all empty, suggesting the rest of Alpha's clone batch hadn't gotten away like her. She must've had enormous mental strength to resist the programming of this machinery.

She was stood staring at one of the beds with a sorrowful look in her eyes, and the Doctor walked over to join her.

"We can stop this happening to anyone else. This is going to end, and I'm going to find a way to free the others too. I just need to know who's doing this to you and why."

"They were never here. We marched in the trance into here under their command. We never saw them."

"Keeping themselves hidden, so that you all never get to know who it is behind this. Covering their tracks. Hiding."

As if on cue though, there was a noise behind them. The Doctor and the girl both spun around in shock as a door they hadn't spotted embedded in another section of the wall slid itself aside. A robed figure stepped through. A robed figure with a tall domed head, and leathered scaly skin. It surveyed the two of them with dark, empty eyes which blinked intently.

"It seems we're honoured enough to be graced with your presence after all this then... Finally stepping out from behind the curtain, not pulling the strings remotely anymore?"

His words were ignored. The room fell silent. And without the slightest flicker of emotion the Draconian raised his pistol and pulled the trigger.


End file.
